


Airless

by Medeafic



Series: Supernova [11]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Controlling Behavior, D/s, M/M, Sado-Masochism, discussions about asphyxiation play, vague mentions of abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Chris and Zach are finding it a little hard to breathe. Zach opens up about his fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airless

“Really?” Chris asks.

“Really.”

“You want to _feed_ me? Like I’m a baby?”

Zach tips his head to the side a little, considering. “More like a five-year-old who hasn’t quite mastered cutlery.”

Chris drops his head into his hands, elbows defiantly on the table, although Zach hasn’t said anything else about that since the first time anyway. “Zach, I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to know. Just do what I say.”

“I don’t think I’ll enjoy it,” Chris says desperately.

“Are you safe-wording or not?” Zach sounds cold, and it’s not helping.

After deliberation, Chris shakes his head. “If you want me to, I’ll do it. But I don’t understand what you’re getting out of it.” _You don’t have to understand_ , Chris is sure he’ll say, but he doesn’t.

Zach looks at the plate for a moment and then says, “Control.”

“It’s just,” Chris says, all in a rush to get it out so that Zach will understand where he’s coming from, “there’s been a lot of micromanaging going on and I didn’t think you really liked that, I mean, you always said it bugged when people asked for permission to do things all the time, so I thought this sort of thing would…bug you too.”

“It doesn’t bug me.”

Chris waits, but Zach is pressing his lips together and looking stubborn. Not confident or authoritative, Chris notes – just stubborn. “I’m not questioning you, Zach, you can do whatever you want. If you want to feed me, well, okay. If you want to –” Actually, he doesn’t want to give Zach any ideas. “Whatever you’ve wanted, I’ve agreed to do it, haven’t I? I’m not questioning _what_ you want to do, I’m just wondering _why_. Because this – the point of this was for you to find out some things about yourself. And you haven’t said much about that, you just look pained from time to time.”

Zach smiles then, but it’s closer to his scary smile than his happy one, and Chris whips his elbows off the table instinctively. “ _I_ look pained? If that’s the most important thing to you right now, I’m not doing my job properly.”

Chris decides to take a risk. “Of course it’s the most important thing to me. I agreed to this trial so that you could explore some stuff. No,” Chris says, when it’s obvious Zach is going to argue. “I know, there were other reasons, and I’m not saying I’m _only_ doing this for your benefit. I’m enjoying parts of it too. But you don’t seem to be getting out of it what you were looking for in the first place. So maybe we need to talk about that.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want to do this.” Zach waves his hand at the food, which he’s already cut up in preparation. Chris woke up starving again this morning, and when Zach offered to make breakfast, he asked for pancakes and bacon and hash browns and eggs. Zach had looked dimly appalled, then Machiavellian; he cooked it all and then started up this _I want to feed it to you_ refrain.

So far, Chris has found the morning a little trying. He was woken several times during the night by Zach’s tossing and turning, and each time his aching ass made it difficult to fall back asleep. In the early morning hours, Zach draped himself completely on top of him like a too-hot, too-heavy blanket.

“Zach, get _off_ ,” Chris complained, and had to shove backwards with his shoulders a few times before Zach woke. “Get off me, I can’t _breathe_.”

“No, I told you, that’s too dangerous,” Zach had told him sleepily, but rolled over and mumbled, “Stop asking,” into the pillow.

“I’m not –” But Zach was already asleep again.

After they got up an hour later, still too early, Zach followed him to the bathroom and Chris found himself fed up.

“Dude, what _is_ this?” he asked, too tired to care whether Zach was going to start counting his questions again.

Zach looked blankly at him.

“I get that I have no privacy right now, but seriously? I can’t even piss in peace?”

“I want to check your marks.”

“Well, can you give me a few minutes?”

Zach began to get an obstinate look about him, but the exhaustion in Chris’s face seemed to make him think twice. “Alright. A few minutes.” He retreated, but pointedly did not shut the door.

Afterwards, he stood quietly in front of the bathroom mirror to let Zach tend to him. Chris was already concerned at the state of his chest, and then he caught sight of his butt in the mirror: a mess of black, purple, red stripes, with puffy welts and contusions exploding like dying stars.

“What in the _heck_ happened to consideration?” he demanded suddenly, and Zach looked up in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Meetings. Photo shoots. I told you I had them coming up and you said, ‘I’ll take it into consideration,’ and then you do _this_ to my chest? This is consideration? In a few days I have a six hour flight sitting on this ass, you know, and maybe you’re not aware, but it hurts like a son of a…gun.”

Zach didn’t reply, and ducked his head again so that Chris couldn’t see his expression. But after he finished, Zach said, “I won’t punish you for asking questions today,” and Chris wondered if that was his way of apologizing.

And now they’re glaring at each other over the table and a plate of congealing bacon and cooling pancakes.

“ _Why_ do you want to feed me? It just seems weird.”

“You’re making me regret that I allowed you questions today, Christopher.”

“Zach, I’m not pushing back, I just want to understand.”

“You _are_ pushing back.”

“Well, so what if I am? You said you _liked_ it when I push back.”

“Maybe I don’t like it anymore,” Zach says frostily, and they look at each other in consternation. “I mean…”

“You mean you prefer me as a mindless, obedient _toy_?” Chris snaps. “Just something to play with and then put away?”

“No, no. That’s – definitely not what I meant.”

“Oh, okay, a dog, then? Trained and obedient?”

“Stop it. Of course not.”

“Then what _did_ you mean, Zach? Please, explain it to me. Small words, so I can understand.”

Zach shoves his chair a little back from the table, and Chris is sure he’s going to stalk out of the room, but instead he leans forward and drops his face into his hands. “I’m drowning,” he says, muffled. “I think I’m drowning.”

Chris stares at him, unsure what to do. “Drowning?”

“I don’t think this was a great idea. This whole trial.”

And somehow that makes Chris even angrier, like Zach is blaming him. Like he hasn’t been good enough, obedient enough. “I’ve done _everything_ you’ve asked me to, what more do you want from me?”

Zach rubs his face slowly, wearily, and looks at Chris from between his fingers. “That’s the problem, Christopher, I want too much. I thought I’d find a point where I could stop wanting more, but I haven’t yet, and I feel like I’m being sucked under into something – dangerous. I can see you feeling out what you’re comfortable with and it’s like…” He trails off.

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve found the bottom already and now you’re swimming back to the surface and I can’t follow you.”

 _That’s very poetic_ , Chris wants to say, _but it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense_. “I don’t feel like I’ve found my boundaries. Not yet.”

“You’re close. You _are_ starting to push back.”

“And you don’t _want_ me to now?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Zach sighs. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Were you testing me?”

“No. I was just being a jerk.” He gets up and hands over the fork. “Here. Eat. I’m going to run down and get some of that coffee you like. I’ll be right back, but I – I need some air.”

But Chris finds he’s lost his appetite after Zach leaves. He’s flying back to LA the day after tomorrow, and everything seems off-kilter. His butt still hurts to sit on, so he flops onto the bed instead, on his stomach, and writes in his journal.

 _I thought you were enjoying it_. _You said you were finding out things about yourself, and that’s what you wanted. I wish you’d talk to me more, if it’s so hard for you – if you’re worried. This was supposed to be a joint effort, but it feels like you’re trying to do it all yourself._

 _You asked me to help you. You said you couldn’t think of anyone who could help you better. So do you want my help, or not?_  
  
Chris rolls gently onto his back. It’s not so sore when he’s lying down. He spreads his arms and legs like he’s making a half-hearted snow angel and stares at the ceiling, painted a muted cream.

“I feel suffocated,” he mutters. “There’s no air in here.” When he first arrived, Zach’s apartment felt light and friendly and filled with possibilities, but it’s closing in on him now. Like the whole universe has squeezed in on this one point, the fulcrum of existence between what has happened already and what’s to come, and it’s too much pressure.

Chris puts his hands around his own neck and makes exaggerated gasping, coughing noises, kicks his legs. Lets his hands fall down again and stares back at the ceiling.

“ _What_ are you _doing_?” Zach asks from the doorway, and Chris bolts upright on the bed, flinching at the pain from sudden movement.

“Nothing,” he replies uncomfortably. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking of _strangling_ yourself?” Zach is holding a coffee in each hand, and both are shaking.

“No, of course not. No – just – I don’t know. I was thinking about us.”

“I _told_ you –”

“ _Not_ that. Jesus,” Chris groans, understanding. “You told me you didn’t want to do that and that’s fine, I respect that. No choking. I wasn’t thinking about that, I promise. I was just messing around.”

He’s prepared for Zach to keep making a big deal out of it, but Zach looks thunderstruck instead.

“What?” Chris asks.

“I forgot about that. I forgot – that _is_ a boundary for me. A limit.” They look at each other and Zach slowly gives a small smile.

“Zach, what’s going on in your head?” Chris asks, hoping to draw him out now that he’s in a better mood. “I wish you’d tell me. What’s the deal with the shadow stuff?”

Zach walks over and hands him a coffee. “Here.”

“ _Zach_ –” The words _Honesty Policy_ are hovering on his lips.

“We can talk. I just need caffeine first.” Zach sits down on the bed next to Chris and they drink in silence.

“It _is_ good coffee,” Chris says, putting down his empty cup. “Pity they don’t have the right cookie things here.”

“Yeah,” Zach says. “I miss those.”

“I’ll send you some.”

Zach shoves his cup at the nightstand and then turns to pull Chris into a hard hug, pulling back a little as Chris lets out an _ow_. “Sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay. Just sore.”

“No, I mean, for before. I shouldn’t have –”

“No apologies for that stuff,” Chris interrupts. “But if you want to make it up, you can tell me what the fudge is going on inside your head.”

Zach starts laughing and kissing him. “Fudge,” he says. “You’re starting to sound like my mom. It’s disturbing. You can swear again if you want.”

Chris is laughing too. “I don’t know. You’re probably right, I swear a lot. I should tone it down. So come on, thoughts. Tell me. Is it about that quote from Jung? Where love rules…how does it go?”

“‘Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.’ It’s about that, yeah, a little. I guess.” Zach takes his time, pulling Chris into his arms and burying his nose in his hair, but Chris has found his patience again. “I thought I understood myself better than this, but obviously not. I thought maybe if I had _more_ control, it would be different. I wouldn’t want it as much, if I had _too_ much.”

“Like when you overdosed on cookie things and couldn’t eat them for a while.” Chris grins at him, and Zach nods, a faintly regretful look on his face.

“Yeah, like that. But as it turns out, it seems that I can’t get enough control. Not yet, anyway. Not when it comes to you.”

“I thought you were enjoying it. I thought it was fun for you.”

“Not so much. Less fun, more…seeing what I can get away with. How far I can push.”

“You’ve been pretty fudg– _fucking_ controlling, Zach.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“Well, neither did I. I thought I’d get sick of it. But the more control I have over you, the less I have over myself.” His fingers contract around Chris’s arm and then release slowly. “You were right, this morning. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, physically. I don’t want to mess up anything for you and I don’t want you in pain when you’re away from me, when I can’t take care of you.” Zach kisses him, pressing his lips into Chris’s temple for a long time. And then he sighs. “But the thing is, I love you even more now than I did before. And I _really_ didn’t think that was possible.” He _does_ sound astonished, Chris realizes. “That worries me.”

“ _Worries_ you?”

“Yeah. Worries me. I don’t want to go too far.”

Chris starts wondering if he should be offended, but his boyfriend has just told him he’s crazier than ever in love – that’s not an insult. Or it doesn’t seem like it. “What do you mean, too far? You don’t think I love you as much?”

“You really do ask a lot of questions,” Zach sighs.

“You said I could today. Come on, tell me.”

“I worry because the more I love you, the further I want to push you. And eventually you’ll break, or you’ll say no, and I’m worried…”

“ _What_?”

Zach rolls away from him, looking tormented. “I’m worried that I won’t _stop_ , Christopher.”

Chris watches him, shocked. “That’s honestly never occurred to me. Ever. I don’t think you’d do that, no way. You’re controlled, and you’ve always respected the safe words, and besides, everything that we’ve done, I’ve enjoyed. Maybe not at the _time_ , but I like the effects and all the stuff that comes along with it.”

“I’m not so controlled,” Zach says quietly. “Not anymore. I am losing my self-control. You’ve seen that yourself, you even brought it up earlier this morning.”

“But not because I thought it was _abusive_. Jesus Christ, Zach.” He’s getting angry now. “We do this stuff because it’s _fun_ , not because we _have_ to or because we’re in some sick relationship. There’s a line, and it hasn’t been crossed. I’m still consenting. That’s the line.”

Zach stands up and starts wandering around the room, upset. “But it’s not consent if I’m manipulating you into it.”

Chris stands up as well, and grabs Zach by the shoulders. “Do you think that’s what you’ve done? You think I’m just doing this because you talked me into it?”

“I _did_ , or at least I feel like I did,” Zach says, and looks guilty. “It feels like I manipulated you.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Zach.”

Zach looks outraged, and then slightly hurt, until he sees Chris grinning at him. “I am not,” Zach says, and Chris laughs.

“You really don’t get it, sometimes, do you? Why I like this, I mean.”

Zach shakes his head slowly. “I’d say a good ninety percent of the time, I think you’re just putting up with me. You’ve never done anything like this before me, and that makes me think that you’re not…like me.”

The words strike right at Chris’s heart, but he keeps smiling. “Of course I’m not like you. You cry over a fucking paper cut, Zach. Besides, I never took it in the ass before you either and you _know_ I love that.” That, at least, prompts a small smirk. “You’ve read my journal, what I wrote for you. You know better than this. You know I do these things because…”

“Because?”

“There are millions of reasons. Because I love the adrenaline rush, because I love the way the pain turns into pleasure, because it’s a challenge and I want to see if I can do it. And okay, yeah, because I love you and I want to make you happy – no, _don’t_ look like that. It’s not a bad thing to want to make you happy, and that’s only a small part of it. I guarantee you – ninety percent of the time, I’m doing it just for me. Because I like it.”

“Don’t you wish I were different?” Zach asks, his voice small. “You said you forget about it sometimes.”

Chris kisses him gently, next to his mouth, wondering how one man can be so self-confident and so incredibly insecure at the same time. “I don’t wish you were different. You wouldn’t be _you_ if you were different. I don’t love you _except_ for this or that. I love all of you, even the part of you that’s a dumbass sometimes, like now.”

Zach looks a little better, less worried.

“And Zach – you need to have more faith in me. I’m serious. I’m pretty new to this stuff compared to you, but I _know_ the difference between sadomasochism and abuse. And so do you. Jesus Christ, you know it down to your core. We walk a fine line sometimes, but I think we’ve done pretty well so far. If I ever feel uncomfortable with something, you know I’ll tell you. I promise I will.”

“Okay. But maybe we should stop the trial thing.”

Chris shrugs. “If you want to. I _was_ enjoying it, mostly. It got a little weird, less fun. But if we could make it just fun again, maybe – maybe that would help you, too.”

“Fun,” Zach repeats. “Yeah. It stopped being fun.”

“Then let’s try to make it fun again.”

“You think we can?”

“I think we can do anything,” Chris says sincerely. “Come and feed me.”

“What? No. That – wasn’t a great idea.”

“Come on. Come and do it, but promise it’ll be fun this time.”

He can see the wheels turning in Zach’s mind, and then Zach smiles. “Okay.”

It _is_ fun, the second time. Zach makes more pancakes because they’ve gone cold, and holds each forkful of food, dripping liberally with maple syrup, in front of Chris’s lips, making him keep them closed. When Zach says, “Open,” Chris obeys. More syrup ends up _on_ Chris than in his mouth, and afterwards Zach takes his time licking it all up, his tongue wide and flat and teasing, until Chris is begging for more.

“I still want all of you,” Zach says softly once Chris has come in his mouth and they’re lying on the lounge room floor, recovering. “I’d still like you to write for me.”

“I will, but you know – you’re never going to have _all_ of me. It’s just not possible.” Zach frowns. “It’s not a _challenge_ , Zach, it’s just the truth.”

“But when you write down stuff, I can see inside your head. Eventually, maybe, I’ll be able to know what you’re thinking before you – okay, this is sounding weird even to me.”

Chris laughs. “But it doesn’t work that way. It’s just bits of me, the journal, just stuff I think at any one moment. But that doesn’t mean my thoughts stay the same. They change. I hate something you’ve done one minute and love it the next.”

“Just bits of you?” Zach sounds thoughtful. “I never looked at it that way.” He stands up abruptly. “Stay there.” When Zach returns, he’s holding a composition book, and hands it to Chris.

“You want me to write now, I will, but I need a pen.” Chris rolls over to open the book, preparing to flick to the last page, but stops. “Zach. What –”

“I’ve been journaling too.” Zach lies down next to him. “I’d like you to read it and see what you think.”

“I don’t want –”

“I know you don’t want to read my personal journal. This is different. You can skim if you want, but I’d like to know what you think.”

Chris sighs, but runs his eyes over the words, picking out phrases.

_I had no idea I was capable of loving someone this much._

_He illuminates my heart._

_I lose myself in him when he comes for me; his eyes are like bright blue whirlpools sucking me under and I want to go with him. I want to drown in him._

He smiles. “This is nice.” Zach silently turns the pages – he’s written much more than Chris has – to the last few entries.

_I could keep him here, I think, if I said the words, because he’s so eager to please. I could say, Christopher, move to New York, and he would._

_Christopher is dangerously giving, and I am too selfish. But perhaps there’s a cosmic balance there. I want all of him._

_He should run away, but he doesn’t. It’s almost overwhelming sometimes, the temptation to just take everything._

_Same dream again, but a little further this time. I took the knife and –_  
  
“I can’t read any more.” Chris shuts the book and pushes it away. The words his eyes rested on are still swimming in his mind. Blood and bone and – “Why did you show me that?” he snaps. “Are you trying to scare me again?”

Zach doesn’t say anything, and it takes a moment for Chris to realize that his reaction wasn’t what Zach was looking for. “I’m sorry,” Zach says stiffly. “I won’t ask you to read it again.” He grabs the book and scrambles up.

“Wait –” But Zach is already out of the room. Chris follows him. “Zach, wait, please.”

“Is it still just _bits_?” Zach asks, shoving the book back in the nightstand drawer.

“Yes,” Chris says firmly. “It’s just bits, it’s not the whole picture. I know what you were trying to do, and I shouldn’t have…I should've…I’m sorry, Zach.”

“What do you think I was I trying to do?” Zach asks, hostile.

“You were just trying to show me bits of yourself, parts that I don’t see sometimes, the parts that I don’t always remember. Because you’re worried that if I knew about them, I wouldn’t love them. And that I wouldn’t love _you_. But I do.”

Zach looks taken aback. “Oh.”

“Am I right?”

“Well…yes.”

 _Score!_ Chris thinks. “I know you have some violent fantasies, Zach. Hell, you spent most of last night kicking me in your sleep, so I guess you were dreaming something pretty bad then.” Zach gives a furtive, guilty glance at the bedside table, where the knife is lying, innocent and pure in the morning light. Chris shivers, but keeps talking. “But you know the difference between fantasy and reality, so – so that’s okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Zach says, absurdly, but Chris understands.

“I know.”

“I mean, I _do_ , but not like that, _never_ like that – nothing _bad_. Nothing wrong. I like it fun. I don’t want to get too serious about it. There’s no point doing it if it’s not fun.”

“I know. So what do you want to do today? Tonight? Take me to a club and whip me in front of a crowd?” Chris is only joking, but Zach stares at him. “You could let people take turns on me,” he suggests with a grin.

“If you think I’m going to let _anyone_ else play with you, you must be out of your mind.”

Chris starts laughing. “I’m kidding, Zach, I’m just messing with you. Lighten up!”

“Lighten up.” Zach starts smiling back, a little confused. “Yeah. I forgot. Fun.”

“Right, fun. So, what are we doing today?”

Zach lets his gaze travel up and down Chris’s naked body. “Today you have a meeting, don’t you? So we’ll save the fun for later tonight.”

Chris nods, feeling happy. “Sure, Zach. Whatever you want.”

They spend the late morning discussing _Inishmore_ , Chris explaining his ideas about his character. “But there’s still something missing. I want to really understand that violent side, because that’s what the whole play is about.”

“But you’ve played violent characters before.”

“This is different.” Chris frowns.

“How?”

It’s different because Chris wants to really prove himself and act the hell out of it. He’s nervous about the Irish accent, but his greater worry revolves around the aggression and hostility of his character. After spending so long on the receiving end of a sadist, he’s starting to wonder if he can really do it, if he can tap into his own Shadow and pull out an amazing performance.

“Even when I was cutting you, it was hard to turn off the caring,” he says, and Zach twitches. “That’s good between us, of course, but this guy, Padraic, he’s not like that.”

“He loves his cat,” Zach points out.

“Yeah. I could channel it into that,” Chris says thoughtfully. “And leave the cruelty for humans. He’s like you in that way.”

“What do you mean?” Zach asks, and Chris reminds himself yet again that he has to be careful around these topics. Zach can get touchy.

“I mean, you care about animals.”

“And leave the cruelty for humans?”

“Well…yes,” Chris says awkwardly.

They are interrupted, to Chris’s relief, by his phone ringing. It’s his publicist. He rolls his eyes at Zach and answers.

“Good news!” she trills. “New date tonight, Chris, and you’ll love her. I’ve managed to squeeze you in with her there in New York. She has a full calendar, you know. You can thank me by upping my percentage or something. She’ll be waiting for pick up at nine sharp, from –”

“You know what, I’m gonna have to call you back,” Chris says hurriedly, and ends the call. He turns to speak to Zach, who looks dark. “It’s, um. A date.”

“That’s not happening,” Zach says, baring his teeth. Chris realizes, after staring at him for a second, that it’s supposed to be a smile. “No.”

Chris fights with every fiber of his being to not say _But_. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at his thighs, covered in red, black and purple crop marks in perfect precision, spreading equal distances. They look like little tag marks, as though Zach has determinedly labeled up and down: _Property of Zachary John Quinto. If found, please return to New York City_.

“Look, I don’t want to go, of course. But I’m going to have to tell my people something.”

Zach takes his cell from him. “You can tell them that you’re not their dancing monkey.” He scrolls through received calls and redials, holding it up to Chris’s ear.

The shriek from the phone, “What do you _mean_ you can’t go?” is clearly audible in the wider room, but Zach doesn’t smile about it. He looks deadly serious, staring Chris straight in the eyes.

“I just can’t, not tonight, I’m busy.”

“You can spend a few hours away from –”

“No, I can’t!” Chris yells, and is surprised at himself. Zach’s expression mirrors his. “I can’t. I’m sorry. Not tonight.” Zach hangs up the phone for him. “Wow. I feel liberated.”

“That was…unexpected,” Zach says.

Chris felt a high for a moment, but now he realizes he’s just shouted at someone who, despite what he might think from time to time, has his career’s best interest at heart. “What are you talking about? I lost my temper and yelled. That’s like my standard or something. Or it was.”

“Well, sure. But I’ve never seen you tell your people what to do before. Yelling isn’t great, no. But…” Zach still looks like he wants to say, _Good job!_ but can’t condone raised voices. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to do it without losing your cool.”

“Yeah,” Chris says. “That yoga’s working _so_ well. Can I have some more ass cream now?”

Zach looks taken aback. “Do you mean…”

“I mean for the _marks_ , you sex-crazed… _Jeez_. For the welts and bruises?”

“Oh! Okay. Sure.” He leaves the room to fetch supplies.

While he waits, Chris thinks things over. Zach has never been so openly opposed to the fake dates before, and Chris wonders if that’s something that might stick after the trial is over.

  
***

  
Later that night, Zach goes out to a premiere or party or after-party – Chris didn’t really listen when he explained – and Chris finally has some time alone. He thought Zach might make him stand at the wall again, but no. Chris actually feels a wave of gratitude towards Zach that he didn’t, which he tries to ignore. Zach was right about one thing – Chris _has_ felt submerged over the last few days, eddying through invisible currents. And now he’s longing to get back to the surface, to breathe again.

Just having a few hours to himself makes a big difference. He reads, and watches a movie, and dares to put on boxer shorts because he’s tired of sitting on towels. When his cell rings, he doesn’t recognize the number, but answers it anyway.

“It’s Corey, man. Zach gave me your number.”

“Oh – hi. What can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to check in, see how you’re rolling.”

“I’m rolling just fine,” Chris says with a smile. “You?”

“Fantastic as always. So listen, Neal and I were wondering if you have time to catch up before you leave. You can bring Mr. Eyebrows too, if you want.”

Chris hesitates, a little confused. “What did you want to do?”

“Whatever, you know? Lunch, or breakfast if we get up early enough, or come over to mine, have a beer. Relax a bit.”

“Sure,” Chris says, although he’s not entirely sure he wants to. “Is there something you wanted to talk about, or –?”

“Not really,” Corey says, sounding surprised. “But we know you’re leaving soon, so we wanted to pry you away from Zach’s monopolizing hands for a while and hang out.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure. It’ll have to be tomorrow, because I leave the next day.”

They work out the details and then Corey cheerfully says goodbye. Zach arrives home an hour later, buzzing from his party. Chris has remembered to take off his boxers about ten minutes before Zach’s return, but Zach looks at his waist pointedly. Chris cringes. There are elastic marks still in his skin from the waistband.

“While the cat’s away, huh?” Zach says, but smiles. “We’ll pretend I didn’t see it.”

“Thank you,” Chris says automatically. “Zach, I need to ask you something.” He takes a breath. Zach looks wary. “Did you tell Corey I’m a friendless wonder or something? Because he called up to ask me out to lunch tomorrow. You can come too, he said, but it was like he wanted to see me, specifically.”

“Of course not. That’s just what he’s like. Friendly. He likes you.”

“Did he ever call up Adam and want to hang out?”

“Um. No one really seemed to get along with Adam.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Come on, don’t be a hater.” But Zach is grinning. “So, no. He never called up Adam or wanted to hang out with him. It’s good, though, right? You like him too?”

“Yeah, I like him.”

But Chris is still suspicious. It’s like Corey wants to make sure that things between Chris and Zach are okay, and that in itself makes Chris wonder if they are.

“I didn’t ask you first,” Chris says. “I didn’t know if I should.”

Zach looks conflicted, but says, “No. It’s fine. It’ll be fun to see them, and we’ll still have time together.”

Chris decides to put it out of his mind. “What are we doing tonight?”

“I’ll shower and then we can get started.”

Things start slowly enough. Still naked himself from the shower, Zach ties Chris’s wrists down to the bed with straps running under the mattress, keeping his arms spread tightly to each side, and blindfolds him. Chris feels Zach climb on top of him, and then fingertips sweeping lightly over his chest, so carefully that there’s no pain at all.

“Just fun tonight,” Zach says. “No _ouch_.” Chris relaxes. “What are you thinking?”

Chris sighs good-naturedly. “Still with the thoughts? I was thinking, I’m glad it’s not going to hurt, and I’m looking forward to it.”

There is silence for a while as Zach teases him with a slow hand job, and then he says, “What do you like about the thought of me choking you?”

Beneath his blindfold, Chris frowns. “I guess I like the trust involved. I like the thought that I’m giving up control over something as basic as breathing – giving that control to you.”

“ _Christ_ ,” Zach whispers. “If we hadn’t talked earlier, Christopher, I’d be worried about you.”

“It’s just a fantasy,” Chris says, almost defensive. “I know we’re not going to do it. You said it’s too dangerous.”

“It brings back a bad memory for me.” Zach falls quiet again, concentrates on Chris’s cock. In time, he says, “But I thought about it again, and there _is_ another way. A little safer. If you really want to try it, we could, some time. Not today, but some time.” His tone is even, neutral, but Chris knows this is a big deal.

“You said it was a limit.”

“Choking is a limit for me. It’s too easy to accidentally…I wouldn’t feel safe doing that. But this is different. I mean, it’s not _harmless_ –”

“Nothing we do is harmless, Zach. There’s always a risk.” Chris thinks it over. “How is what you’re talking about different from choking me?”

“It’s like this,” Zach says, and Chris feels a hand lightly covering up his nose and mouth, removed immediately. “Nothing involving asphyxiation is safe, and it’s more dangerous than most stuff. If I make a mistake with the cane, it might end in a cut, or a broken bone, or maybe even a permanent nerve injury if I mess up completely. But if I strangle you, I might accidentally cut off your cartoid arteries, or damage your trachea or the bones in your neck. Not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t be able to breathe. If I make a mistake with something like that, you could die.” He says it matter-of-factly, and Chris is grateful for that. “Do you understand?”

Chris swallows. “Yeah.”

“Using my hand like that over your nose and mouth isn’t quite as dangerous, but there could still be irreversible consequences. It’s risky.”

“But you’re willing to do it?”

“If you want me to, I will do it for you. But not yet, not during the trial, when I’m worried about my control issues. I want to be completely sure that I’m in control of myself. That might take a while, until I’m satisfied. And besides, I'd have to refresh my memory."

"What do you mean?"

"Study up."  Chris can hear the smile.  "You're not the only one who researches, Christopher.  But anyway, we have time, we can wait. There’s no hurry.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Chris asks, curious.

“Because I want you to think it over and be really sure you want it; that it’s worth the risk.”

“But normally you don’t ask. You just do it. You just – take.” Zach stays silent for a long pause, and Chris starts to think he’s said the wrong thing. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, I meant –”

“I know what you meant. The thing is, I don’t think just _taking_ from you is fair. It’s imbalanced. We don’t negotiate much, and I think maybe we should. Maybe you should know more before we go into things, and maybe I should stop taking it for granted that you’ll just do whatever I want. It’s not fair.”

“You’re never fair, Zach,” Chris reminds him with a grin. “But okay. If you think it’ll help, we can negotiate more. And I’ll think about the breath play.”

“Thank you.”

“Can we get on with the fun now?”

“We can.” And Chris feels something cool and liquid drizzling all over his cock. Zach spreads it with his hand, slides his own dick up against Chris’s, and Chris bucks up reflexively. “This isn’t going to work if you move, Christopher. I want you to stay still. No moving at all – no matter what happens. Understand?”

“Yes.” He feels Zach rise up on his knees and move forward a little. A hand around his cock again, holding it upright and steady. And then – “ _Zach_.” Chris feels the head of his dick enclosed in tight, warm flesh and the urge to drive his hips up is almost overpowering.

And then Zach makes a choked-off noise of pain and concentration, and it’s unbearable, Chris _has_ to move –

“Don’t you dare,” Zach says immediately. “Just lie still for me, or I’ll stop right now.”

“Please don’t _ever_ stop this,” Chris gasps, and Zach laughs, pushes down slowly but inexorably, his breath shallow, until Chris can feel his cock is buried up inside.

“Is this a reward?” he asks.

“It’s something fun.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, but I prepped in the shower. Can you _please_ stop asking questions now? Just while we’re doing this?”

Chris starts giggling, delighted, half-drunk on the sensation of actually being inside someone again after so long. “Sure, Zach, whatever you want, no more questions.” And then, “I wish I could see you.”

“Just concentrate on what you can feel. Does it feel good?”

“It feels like _heaven_.”

“In all my time at church, I never heard heaven described as an ass-fucking.”

Chris is laughing so much that he’s finding it hard to stay still. “Zach – please –”

“Yes, I’m going to, I’m just waiting for you to stop chortling at me.”

Chris bites at his lip and tries to calm down. “Okay,” he says at last. “I stopped.”

Zach bends over him, and Chris thinks it must be some yoga-enhanced angle, because while his mouth is full of Zach’s tongue, Zach is sliding up again slowly, too slowly for Chris, but he wouldn’t move now even if the paparazzi burst in through the door. “Bring your legs up,” Zach says, his voice tight, and Chris bends them obligingly. The new angle drags a noise of approval out of Zach that Chris has never heard before.

Zach stays at the same maddening, unhurried pace until he finds his rhythm and Chris, his forehead tingling and his balls aching, starts begging.

“Oh, I like that,” Zach says, his voice husky. “Yeah. Beg me. Ask me to shoot all over you.”

Only Zach, Chris thinks, could sound so completely in control with a cock inside him. Chris begs, pleads, bargains, yanks his wrists against the bonds in frustration, but keeps his own hips perfectly still. The last thing he wants is Zach pulling off of him. It’s addictive; he’s hooked. “Please tell me you’ll let me do this again,” he moans, and Zach laughs, breathless.

“You’re not even finished yet and you already want more? Greed is a sin, Christopher. You don’t get to heaven that way.” But Zach’s voice is unsteady, and Chris knows he’s close.

“Zach, _please_.”

“Come for me, then,” Zach says, and Chris feels muscles contract around his dick, fingers twisting his nipples to just the right amount of sting, and he can’t help it – he drives up into Zach and makes a choking noise, panting for air as he shoots.

Zach makes him stay still, softening up, and Chris tries to memorize each new sensation, every inch of Zach inside, while Zach jerks off and when he comes, dives down to bite at Chris’s shoulder. But it’s gentle, Chris thinks, as much as a bite can be. Just a reminder.

And most of all, it’s just fun.

“Lunch with the guys tomorrow – I might not be able to come,” Zach murmurs in his ear, after they’re all cleaned up and he’s wrapped around Chris in bed. “I think I’ve double-booked.”

“That’s okay.” Chris is feeling more relaxed about lunch with Corey and Neal. Hell, he’s feeling more relaxed about everything, ever.

“Don’t let them tell you stories about me. They’re all lies, by the way, if they do.”

Chris snorts.

They lie silent for a few minutes, and then Zach asks, “What are you thinking now?”

“I’m thinking I hope you give me some room in the damn bed tonight.”

“No, you’re not,” Zach says crossly. “What are you really thinking?”

“That I hope I can do that again. That I have never been so happy to fuck someone in my entire life. That you’re going to be sore tomorrow. That it was fun. That I love you. That I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay, because we’ll see each other again soon. That Corey is a really nice guy. That things are better between us. That I need to call my publicist and apologize. That you’re lying on my arm and it’s going to sleep.”

“Sorry.” Zach shifts. “That’s a lot of things to be thinking. A lot of…bits.”

“Yeah. I’m deep like that.”

Zach crams his nose between Chris’s neck and the pillow and sighs, content. “Deep like the ocean."


End file.
